Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End
by ILoveToChin25
Summary: A more logical conclusion to the Pirates trilogy. Takes off right after Dead Man's Chest.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

"So tell me, what's become of my ship?"

Will and Gibbs drew their swords in one swift movement while Ragetti and Pintel stumbled backwards, clutching each other. Only Elizabeth stayed put, her expression unreadable.

Tia Dalma stepped forward, grinning largely, although her blackened teeth forced her expression into something more akin to a sneer. "I would introduce you to da Captain, but I am told dat you already be knowin' each udder."

"You expect us to sail with him?" Will snarled. "If we are to rescue Jack it will _not_ be under his command!"

Barbossa raised a shaggy eyebrow but said nothing, choosing to take another supple bite of his apple instead. The juicy spray erupted over his beard.

Tia Dalma's smile faded and she pointed a bony finger in Will's direction.

"You said, if dere was anyting to be done, and now you not be willin' to do anyting?" She lowered her arm and raised her head in a haughty gesture. "I be callin' you a liar den, William Turner."

"I am not a liar!" he retorted hotly. "Barbossa is a murderer and we will not sail with him."

"Do not presume to tell me his crimes," Tia Dalma's voice grew softer and more dangerous. "They are naught compared to what you will do."

Will faltered, "What?"

"How are you alive, Captain Barbossa?"

Everyone ceased their talking and stared at Elizabeth as she moved slowly towards the rather bemused looking pirate.

"Miss Swann," he purred, tipping his overly large hat, "It seems you've taken my advice and given up on ceremony after all. Although I must say those breeches really do nothing for you."

Will started to say something but Elizabeth interrupted, taking another step closer. "Why would you help us get Jack? You've tried to kill him in the past. And he did kill you, in case you've forgotten. Why would you risk yourself to help him now?"

Barbossa grinned mischievously. "Oh, I've not forgotten. But you'll be wantin' to ask Tia Dalma those questions, my dear. I am in her debt and therefore merely a tool to her whims."

Elizabeth shifted her gaze to the voodoo lady.

"Do it really matter why if I be showin' you how?" she replied coyly.

The stillness of the room stretched on for several seconds before it was Elizabeth who finally broke the deafening silence. She turned away from Barbossa and Tia Dalma. Her hair hung limply about her face and her eyes remained red and haunted but now a spark of fierceness shone from them as well.

"Lower your swords," she told Will and Gibbs.

"But-," Will protested.

"Just do it!" she snapped. They complied reluctantly. Will attempted to make eye contact with his fiancé but Elizabeth refused to meet his gaze, instead fixing it on a neutral point on the wall beyond all their heads. "If anyone here does not want to come, then I suggest they leave now. As for myself, I am accompanying Captain Barbossa." No one spoke or moved so she continued. "We all owe Jack," her voice dropped and she finished in a near whisper. "Some more than others…"

Elizabeth met Will's gaze and a tear silently escaped her eye.

Taking a deep breath, Will sheathed his weapon. "When do we leave… Captain?"

Barbossa chuckled. "Don't get too ahead of ye self, Mr. Turner. We sail at first light. In the meantime, I suggest that ye all do well to prepare yourselves. There be more horrors at world's end than the kind you can kill with a sword."

Still chuckling darkly, Barbossa exited the room. Jack the monkey followed at his heel, turning around to screech at everyone before disappearing from view. Ragetti and Pintel shot questioning looks at each other, then shrugging, walked after their former captain.

"What sorts of horrors do you think he means, Gibbs?" Will asked softly, his eyes fixed on Elizabeth, who sat with an almost catatonic expression on her face.

"Well," Gibbs began, "if you believe that sort of thing, it is said that at world's end there is a door of sorts to the locker of Davy Jones himself. Inside Davy Jones' locker," his voice lowered for dramatic effect, "there are the things which frighten you the most, horrors and beasts so fearsome that nay a man alive could survive to tell about." His eyes swept around the room, surveying the effects of his story. Apparently disappointed, he finished flippantly, "that is, of course, if yer believin' in such things."

Tia Dalma, who had been listening to Gibbs with an apparently amused expression, grinned enigmatically at him, then walked into the adjoining room. The sounds of her muttering and moving something rather large soon followed. Will stood up as if to go help her, then, seeming to think better of it, sat back down.

"I guess we should all get some sleep then," Will told the remaining occupants of the room.

"Aye, right you are, lad," Gibbs said, lowering his head to his chest. Moments later he was snoring. Will shook his head in astonishment, then turned to Elizabeth, who still hadn't moved.

"Are you just going to sit here all night?" He asked her, not managing to keep the coldness out of his voice.

She appeared startled for a moment, then sighed dejectedly, her long hair falling in strings across her face. "I don't know."

"Elizabeth…" He stared at her for a moment, his mouth open in question, but seeming to reach some resolve, closed it.

"I'll be outside," he said after a moment. Will rose to his feet and left out the front door, leaving his fiancé the solitude of the room. Elizabeth stared after him for a moment, and long into the night. Somewhere in her breast she knew he was hurting, that he needed to speak with her. But at the moment Elizabeth was coping with her own demons. The ironic twist to the situation was that she didn't want to cope. She didn't want to forget. She especially didn't want to forgive. She closed her eyes after a time, and to some she would have appeared asleep. But the mind beneath the eyelids remained sharp and lucid, and terribly aware.

_"It's the only way, don't you see?…I'm not sorry…not sorry… not sorry…"_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** A little explanation behind this story: after seeing the third movie, which we (this is a collaborative effort) had been eagerly anticipating for the better part of a year, we came home from the movie severely disappointed and frankly, betrayed. As a result, we spent a caffeine induced night sitting and plotting what we would have liked to have seen in the movie. From that discussion and much deliberation, our story was born.

**Disclaimer**: Also forgot to mention this in the first chapter. We own nothing, obviously. However, we should, because it would be much better.

**Chapter Two**

Nearly a month had passed, and many of the crew were becoming restless. Tia Dalma had managed to recruit many of her fellow islanders, giving them a full crew, but the island people were obviously inexperienced sailors. Oftentimes at night the sounds of their strange acerbic chanting could be heard, creating a general unease amongst many.

"It's bad luck, I tell ya," Gibbs said uncomfortably to Will. "They could be cursing our very journey."

Out of them all, it was Barbossa and Tia Dalma who seemed the most at peace, the two seeming to have struck up an odd camaraderie. Elizabeth remained much the same, speaking only when necessary, and then in clipped, neutral tones. The shadows beneath her eyes appeared bruise like, contrasting sharply with the otherwise pallor of her skin.

Several days into their journey, Will had cornered Elizabeth, his hands gently holding her shoulders as if to anchor her in place.

"We can't go on like this," Will told her, his voice dangerously close to breaking.

Elizabeth regarded him for a moment with her haunted eyes. "I know," she said sadly. She broke eye contact, saying softly, "everything will be fine once we get Jack back."

He recoiled from her as if burned. "You love him," he said accusingly. "Admit it."

Elizabeth simply looked at him, her eyes swimming with tears. Will turned away in disgust.

"I saw you kiss him, Elizabeth."

She remained silent, staring out into the sea, the salty breeze whipping her unkempt hair about her face. A sudden spray of water sprinkled them as a wave crashed against the hull. Elizabeth parted her mouth as a few drops found her lips. She closed her eyes. The taste reminded her of Jack.

"I don't know," she said after his retreating back. He made a small sound of disdain, then, changing his mind, turned around.

"I love you, Elizabeth," he whispered, his voice almost pleading now. "And I know you love me too. I.. I understand that you're feeling sad, and that you owe him something. But please, Elizabeth, please don't do this to us…"

Elizabeth shook her head slowly. "I can't do this, Will. Not now."

A hardened glint appeared in Will's eyes. "When Jack's back then."

She regarded him for a moment. "I'm so sorry…" she whispered, turning away.

"Well then, Miss Swann, I'll leave you to figure that out." He tipped his hat sardonically at her.

And that, as they say, was that.

The air gradually turned colder as they descended towards their destination. While Barbossa was no doubt an apt captain and navigator, he refused to disclose any information that seemed more than necessary to the crew concerning their whereabouts. For a while Gibbs and a few others swore they could still tell at night, by way of the north star, but eventually he too conceded that they were hopelessly lost, if not for Barbossa of course.

"How close are we?" Elizabeth questioned, coming to stand side by side with the captain. She hugged a thick woolen coat tight to her small frame and her feet were bundled in any extra materials she had managed to find. Will had in fact given her the coat but he had said naught but a grunt since their confrontation. Their only other interaction consisted of Elizabeth catching Will watching her several times from across the deck, a strange and unreadable expression settled on his features.

Barbossa glanced at her and chuckled. "Oh, we be close in distance, Miss Swann. However it is how far _you_ will go that be the determination of our success."

"What are you talking about?" she asked hesitantly. Thus far Tia Dalma had been maddeningly vague concerning what obstacles were to be faced in their rescuing of Jack. Aside from vicious cold and occasional stormy seas, nothing a sailor would consider out of the ordinary had occurred.

He looked ready to reply but seemed to think the better of it and closed his lips, the grin never leaving . "I would think all your books would've told ye. I seem to remember ye comin' onto my ship and quotin' the Code to me in our first meetin'."

"A time I'd rather forget," she snapped.

"Would ye now?" Barbossa raised an eyebrow. "The truth of the matter is, if not for me and my oh-so-murderous ways, ye would have never left Port Royal, Mr. Turner would have never felt the need to release a certain pirate from jail, and further events would have therefore never ensued. Shall I continue?"

Elizabeth scowled. However she'd like to admit it, there was truth and logic to his words. "You never answered my question, Captain Barbossa," she continued after a moment.

"A thing left unsaid is a thing that ye won't be worryin' about until it need be worried about. In other words, I won't be tellin' ye."

Clenching her fists in frustration, Elizabeth leaned over the frozen railing and watched the ice cracking and giving way beneath the ship. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Barbossa saunter away, the monkey screeching suddenly and dropping to his shoulder as he moved. It seemed thoroughly unaffected by the cold. Must be an advantage of being undead, she thought ironically.

The thought instantly sent her mind back to its usual path. For a near month they had been sailing now. A month spent in frustration and a constant darkness as to what tasks were to come. More than once she had wondered if Tia Dalma could be tricking them, but, as Jack could as well, Elizabeth easily saw through people and their true intentions. She could find no reason why Tia Dalma would have lied completely. Did she have ulterior motives? No doubt, but whatever she could offer, for whatever reason, was the only option at the moment and therefore the only available course of action.

Elizabeth rolled her shoulders and squeezed her fingers and toes in and out. The movement sent prickles up and down her body, but such small discomforts had ceased to bother long ago. She mentally replayed her conversation with Barbossa, recalling especially his odd answer to her first question. Close in distance, yet depending on her? Seemingly on its own accord, her hand reached for an area over her heart, grasping in vain for the locket that had once hung there for years. It was, after all, what had started it all. Barbossa had been right, if not for events which had been set in motion in years prior, her life would have taken a decidedly different course.

Elizabeth shivered as the wind picked up, howling eerily. She wrapped her coat tighter around her body, noting with a slight pang of regret how much it smelled like Will. She truly did miss him, yet her penance demanded solitude.

She jumped slightly as sudden footsteps alerted her to a person's arrival. It was Tia Dalma, a slight cloak draped over her shoulders which hardly seemed adequate to stave off the biting cold. She seemed oddly unaffected, however, grinning mysteriously at Elizabeth's initial discomfiture.

"You be thinking' about what be waitin' for you at world's end?" She asked, holding out a small mug of something to Elizabeth. Seeing Elizabeth's questioning look, she said, "for da cold."

Elizabeth took it gratefully, murmuring her thanks. Whatever the drink was, it was warm, and she shivered in ecstasy as the liquid warmth coursed through her cold body.

"Yes," she said after a moment, feeling it much easier to talk without her teeth chattering incessantly. "No one's telling me anything, as it is."

"Don't you be worryin' none about dat. Now tell me once again," she purred, her blackened mouth pursed once more into a grin. "How far will you be willin' to go for witty Jack?"

"Why?" Elizabeth asked suspiciously.

"Just answer da question. We be nearin' world's end, and our success is entirely up to you."

"How?" Elizabeth asked, frustration creeping into her voice. "And this is the second time in so many minutes that I've been told that the outcome is up to me. If that's true, then I think I deserve to be told exactly what I must do."

"Soon," Tia Dalma answered, the word bordering on harsh. Her features softened, and she grinned once again. "Just answer da first question."

Elizabeth was silent for a moment, gazing at the sinking sun. "I'll do whatever it takes to rescue Jack," she said softly. She then stood up completely, straightening her spine to stand at her full height. "There, I answered your question. Now it's your turn."

"This was never bein' on your terms, Miss Swann. But," she shrugged almost coquettishly, "it is time I be tellin' you."

Cloaked in shadow, Will listened curiously to the exchange between Elizabeth and Barbossa, and moments later, between Elizabeth and Tia Dalma. What possible reason could they have for keeping, not only Elizabeth, but everyone else in the dark as well? And how could rescuing Jack depend solely on her when it had been necessary for all of them to transverse the globe to this forbidden place?

Will's eavesdropping had not only aroused suspicion, a suspicion that many now held, but also a growing fear in the pit of his stomach. Not for his own safety, that was lain forfeit long ago, but fear that Elizabeth was indeed telling the truth. For whatever deed Tia Dalma was readying to ask of her, she would do it. He was sure of it. Will lowered his eyes and examined the ice-crusted planks. His thoughts turned dark and his mood, so often cantankerous these days, worsened. Elizabeth had saved him before, and he her, but would she go this distance for him? That bothered Will more than anything. He didn't know. They were technically still to be married, and he didn't know if she would.

But she would for Jack. For Jack, she would do anything.

As the dark blanket of night overtook them slowly, Tia Dalma summoned the entire crew to the deck. The sea remained eerily still while they straggled together, huddling for warmth and glancing uneasily at the candles Tia Dalma and her island companions had set about the ship. At any moment, one could wobble off balance and set forth an inevitable blaze that would engulf the entire ship within moments and leave them fated to freeze to death in the waters below.

Will stayed fastened to the shadows, now set deep by the moon's faint lunar glow while Elizabeth sat uneasily on a barrel nearby, not far from Captain Barbossa and Mr. Gibbs. The ghostly light of the small flames didn't fail to reach any one person but it seemed not to affect any so much as Elizabeth. The flickering candles cast haunted images across her sharp ashen features, periodically illuminating her dark eyes which appeared to be the only thing truly alive about her lately. While others were dull from cold and hunger, Elizabeth's shone brighter than they had in weeks as Tia Dalma prepared to at last reveal what lay ahead in their journey.

Once Barbossa have a nod confirming every person's presence, Tia Dalma sank to the deck cross-legged and began to hum softly. Her eyes rolled back in her skull and she raised her arms above her head, humming increasing in volume until it became a recognizable tune.

Though Elizabeth had never heard it before, it sent shivers down her spine and gooseflesh appeared on her arms as other crew-members tenderly joined in, forming an unearthly chorus of voices that seemed capable of raising the dead itself. The volume continued to increase. Gibbs and a few other sailors looked thoroughly frightened now but no one dared move or utter even a murmur of sound. Suddenly Tia Dalma's hands dropped and all was silent.

The wind whistled through the sails overhead and waves gently lapped against the hull but no other whisper of sound was to be heard for several moments.

Tia Dalma opened her eyes. Where dark orbs normally sat appeared two milky white orifices. Several people gasped and physically drew backwards. Another screamed. Elizabeth and Will leaned forward, both mouths agape, while Gibbs crossed himself but kept his composure. They would later say that Barbossa was too stunned to move but in reality the corner of his mouth raised in a slight smile.

"Why are you here?" the voice that emitted from the entranced woman's body was neither decidedly male or female. In fact it seemed to be several voices all at once, however impossible that seemed.

Barbossa leaned towards Elizabeth and whispered warningly, "You best be answerin', Miss Swann. They don't appreciate to be kept waitin'."

Swallowing, Elizabeth replied as strongly as her trembling nerves would allow. "We're here to rescue Captain Jack Sparrow from Davy Jones' Locker."

The voices seemed to consider this briefly. "Why should we allow you to take one of our souls? He is where he belongs."

With a pang, Elizabeth realized that the entity, whatever and whoever it was, had just mentioned Jack. "Because," she started, " because he was unjustly killed and it was not his time. There are many people here who want him back."

Tia Dalma's teeth bared in a feral snarl. "You do not tell _us_ when it is or is not someone's time!"

Elizabeth lowered her head, but didn't take her eyes away. "Forgive me," she paused for a moment, hoping she had not offended the entity beyond repair. "Will you allow Jack to return to this world then?"

Several long moments passed before any response came. And when it did, it was not what Elizabeth, or anyone had been expecting. "Only one who truly wants a soul back can transcend."

"What do you mean?" she asked hesitantly.

"Only one may enter our realms. One who encompasses naught but a pure reason for retrieving the soul. You may not enter if you need the soul. You may only enter if you want the soul. If one enters who is not pure, they will be trapped forever."

"How-?"

The voices raised in volume again. "We will not remain any longer. This vessel is not unfamiliar with these rules but she did right to consult us of your presence first. May your journey be enlightened."

Though confused by this last statement, it was too late to ask anything further as Tia Dalma suddenly flung her head backwards and shook violently for a moment. When she slowly raised herself up her eyes had returned to normal.

"What did that all mean?" Will stepped forward for the first time, glancing at Elizabeth in concern, who seemed still a bit out-of-sorts.

"I heard no riddles or rhymes," Barbossa remarked with a slight roll of his eyes. "Surely, Mr. Turner, ye have got a few more brains than yer late father did."

No one there but Will and Elizabeth knew of Bootstrap's currently dark fated existence. Will clenched his fists but ignored the jest and said nothing.

Tia Dalma rose steadily to her feet, apparently unaffected by the mysterious presence that had overtaken her body only minutes before. "It mean," she started, "that only someone who _truly_ want darlin' Jack back can be goin' to get him."

"But I don't understand," Gibbs protested, "We all want the Captain back or else we wouldn't be here." He looked around at the crew and they all murmured their agreement. Tia Dalma shook her head.

"No. You all need him back. Wheder it be for your own sad hearts or for more selfish reasons." She made brief eye contact with Will for a moment before looking away. "Only one here truly want him back for no udder reason den to have him back" This time her gaze strayed to and landed on Elizabeth. "Only one here truly know Jack."

Gibbs chimed in again, "Well, since Captain Barbossa here has known Jack the longest then it should be him who goes." Once again, a few people including Pintel and Ragetti voiced their agreement.

"No."

Will closed his eyes as Elizabeth came to her feet. He'd known it was coming but a small part of him had continued to hope she wouldn't do it. Whatever it was.

"No," she said louder, her voice gaining confidence. "I'm going."

Tia Dalma eyed her knowingly. "And what makes you so sure dat you are da one to bring him back?"

"My reasons are my own," Elizabeth replied softly, purposefully averting her eyes from Will's direction. "Now tell me what I have to do."

**Author's Note # 2: **Coming up next: A well-known character dies (well, sort of…its complicated, to quote J.K. Rawling).

**PLEASE REVIEW! **We're like whores, the more reviews, the more tricks (chapters) we turn.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Thanks to all those who took the time to review! Seriously, peoples, the more reviews, the more you'll get. ENJOY!

**Disclaimer: **Blah, blah. Don't own anything except this story and the brilliance behind it.

CHAPTER THREE

Tia Dalma looked at Elizabeth solemnly. "Dis task is not one to be takin' lightly. If anyting would be goin' wrong, you would be trapped forever in Davy Jones' locker wit dear Jack."

_Maybe that's what she wants. _Will couldn't help but think. _Eternity with him…_ He shook his head, clearing the hateful thoughts from his mind.

Elizabeth nodded, looking slightly paler than usual, but with a hardened glint in her eyes. "I understand."

Tia Dalma grinned, looking almost demonic in the moonlight. "Very well den, Miss Swann." She turned to Barbossa. "Captain Barbossa, you have someting I be needin'."

Without a word, Barbossa reached into his pocket, placing a bottle of some sort into Tia Dalma's outstretched palm.

"Now den, Miss Swann, you will be drinkin' dis."

Elizabeth nodded wordlessly, taking the bottle and holding it gingerly.

Will watched the entire exchange without a word, his mind racing. They were still relatively in the dark as to what the task would entail, yet Elizabeth asked no questions, merely nodding with acceptance. Whatever it takes…

"What is it?" Will asked somewhat desperately. All eyes turned to stare at him, Barbossa scowling slightly.

"It be poison, Mr. Turner." Barbossa said matter-of-factly.

Elizabeth looked startled, thrusting the bottle away from her body as if it were a snake about to strike. "Poison?" she and Will asked in unison. They glanced at each other briefly in surprise. That was the closest they had come to speaking to each other in several days.

"Did I stutter?" Barbossa sneered. He crossed his arms and watched expectantly.

"Tia Dalma," Elizabeth asked pleadingly, "Please, you must know by now that whatever it is, I'll do it. Can't you just tell me?"

"Tell _us_," Will spoke up, directing his comment not at Tia Dalma but Elizabeth. They both proceeded to ignore him.

Tia Dalma smiled. "Very well den." She took the bottle carefully from Elizabeth's fingers and delicately removed the stopper. "First, you drink dis. Tis true dat it be poison, but it won't be killin' you. At least not all da way." She scanned the crowd to view her words effects. Apparently satisfied, she continued, briefly directing her gaze to Will. "In order to enter da world of da undead, her must be mostly dead too."

Tia Dalma looked back to Elizabeth whose face was rapt with apprehension. "After drinkin' of da poison, we lower your body to dose dark depths below. It is dere you will find Jack Sparrow and him precious ship."

Stunned silence withheld any comments for several seconds. Finally Elizabeth spoke. "Is that all?"

"Is that all?" Will repeated incredulously. "Elizabeth, she's telling you that you must die to save Jack! Isn't that the very reason he died, to save us? You can't go through with this. It's insane!"

For a moment it seemed that she wasn't going to respond. Then suddenly she rounded on Will, fury in her eyes though her voice was low and deceivingly calm. "I'm no longer some damsel in distress for you to rescue and protect. You chose to come, as did I, and you knew what I was willing to do."

Will reached out a hand to her but she backed away. "Fiancé or not, you cannot control me, Will. I am not yours to control!"

"Whose are you then?" he asked softly, searching her eyes. At these words however something changed in them. She no longer seemed angry or even annoyed. Instead she seemed almost…sad.

"You don't know?" she whispered, taking another step away, for the moment completely impervious to everything around them.

"Elizabeth…"

"Time runs short ye two," Barbossa cut in, obviously bemused by the young couple's argument. "May I suggest a discontinuance of this conversation until a later point and time."

Abruptly Elizabeth snatched the small bottle from Tia Dalma's palm. Will rushed forward to stop her but his movements were too slow to match hers. Elizabeth downed the bottle in one gulp, quenching her face in distaste. She turned to Tia Dalma whose grin had widened.

"I suggest you do whatever you need to do quickly," Elizabeth said, already seeming somewhat woozy. She swayed suddenly and Will and Gibbs steadied her on either side, both looking equally terrified. "I promise I'll return," she murmured to Will. Her brown eyes glazed and rolled back, her eyelids drooped shut, and she sagged between them. As they gently lowered her down Will heard one last thing pass her lips. "With Jack…"

"Hurry," Tia Dalma ordered. "We must put her in da water or her soul will get lost and wander dis ship forever."

Will watched in a daze as several crew members gingerly lifted Elizabeth's limp form away from him and took her to the side of the ship. Tia Dalma pressed a hand to Elizabeth's forehead briefly, uttering a few words that he could not understand. She then looked out to the sea for a moment.

"Do it," Tia Dalma ordered.

For several seconds Will didn't understand why someone was screaming. Why hands were forcibly holding him back, pinning him to the ice-crusted deck. Only as a boot connected squarely with his jaw, in the last moment before he lost consciousness, did he realize it was him screaming. Screaming for them to stop. But to no avail. Elizabeth's body disappeared over the side and was engulfed in the crushing depths below.

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	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** All of you reviewers, you are all completely awesome! Keep them coming!

**Disclaimer: **We own nothing.

Chapter Four

Darkness. Somewhere, screaming. Elizabeth woke up with a start, her mouth dry and cottony. Not that she actually had a mouth anymore, only the remembrance of a mouth and other body parts. She felt slightly dizzy and disoriented, and uncertain. Was she dead? Standing shakily to her feet, she took stock of her surroundings. She could feel the hard wood of a ship beneath the thin soles of her shoes, but could hear none of the familiar sounds of the sea lapping against the hull, or smell the comforting salty sea smells. The sky above was black and starless, yet she was able to see through the murky, dark haze nonetheless.

Continuing her inspection of the ship, Elizabeth was dumbstruck by its familiarity. She had been here before, that she was certain of, but yet where and when continued to elude her. Black sails fluttered in the nonexistent breeze, striking a chord of remembrance deep in her chest.

"That's interesting," she murmured to herself. Black sails…

Suddenly, a cascade of memories poured over her. Her lips, crushing Jack's, her hands, silent and unyielding in their betrayal. _I'm not sorry…_

She gasped, her eyes alight with understanding. Jack. He was her reason for being in this dark and eerie place, the reason she had literally traveled to world's end.

"Jack?" She said tentatively, her voice echoing hollowly. A humid breeze billowed around her, engulfing her, and she was suddenly struck with a deep and hopeless sadness. A thousand images swirled around her at once. The way her mother had looked before she died, impossibly pale even against the white bed pillows. Her father's face, solemnly telling her that her mother was gone. Her father's face again, etched with disappointment. Will, a hurt expression on his face as he asked her if she loved Jack, then Jack himself, a wary look of admiration for her as she left him to his death. The images didn't stop, merely became faster and more erratic, and she crumpled to her knees as one by one she was assaulted by all the memories she would rather forget.

Panting, her nails digging into the planks, she experienced one final round of memories that stopped just as quickly as they had started. Relief washed over her like a song, and she sank down entirely, wanting and needing to sleep, yet innately understanding that sleep would be forever deprived in such a place.

As if in a dream, she was startled by the sound of approaching footsteps. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she was suddenly eye-level with a pair of brown boots. Could it be? Hoisting herself up as quickly as possible, she was greeted by none other than Captain Jack Sparrow.

"You look funny," he greeted her. Her eyes widened.

"Jack…"she started.

He pointed at her, "In fact, you remind me of this cat I had once. Well, not really had, as in owned. Possessed maybe… Or at least occupied a similar point and place, in the co-habitation sort of sense. Until it drowned." He grimaced and then brightened all at once. "And that's who you remind me of!" Jack flailed his arms. "My formerly drowned feline companion."

Momentarily lost for words, Elizabeth stared as he continued unabashed.

"But at least, the one advantage to your being an illusion and all…no offense love," he said, noting her stricken expression, "is there isn't any need to hide the rum. Although, on second thought, there isn't any rum." Giving her another strange look, he said, "oh bugger." He turned around, swaying slightly, and began to saunter off. "Make yourself at home, Lizzie," he said over his shoulder.

"Jack!" Elizabeth said again, catching up with him and gripping his shoulders. He turned around cautiously and poked her in the chest with his index finger, startled to find that she was as solid as himself.

"Now, that's interesting," he muttered, poking her again for good measure. Then he grinned, revealing his gold teeth. "Thought you'd come join old Jack, did you? How did it happen, love? Did dear William embark on another brave yet dimwitted journey and fail to rescue his beloved?"

"I've never needed rescuing," she said indignantly, "you of all people should know that."

A wary look passed over his features. "Touché, darling. So through what chain of circumstances which have nothing whatsoever to do with your failing to be rescued find you here?"

"I'm not dead. I'm here to bring you back." The words came out in a rush, and she took a deep breath.

"Ah, I see," he moved in closer to her, and she shivered from the close proximity. He noticed, of course, and grinned slyly. "Another trick, love? You've already succeeded in killing me once. If you hadn't noticed, there isn't much more you can do to me here. Unless of course you happened to bring along those irons, dearie. I'm sure we could figure out something to do with them. Entirely divergent from their former usage of course."

Elizabeth took a step back. "No tricks. I'm here because I want to be, because I want to rectify the wrong I created."

He stepped close to her once more. "Is that all?" He murmured silkily. Somehow, he still smelled like the sea, she noted.

She shook her head, feeling precariously close to tears. "I'm so sorry, Jack."

He regarded her closely for a moment, oddly serious. "Apologies don't become you, Elizabeth. You did what was right by you, nothing more, nothing less."

"That's what I've told myself over and over," she continued. "That I was thinking like you, being crafty like the great Captain Jack Sparrow. But," she paused for a moment, "I keep remembering me telling you that someday you would do the right thing, and that's exactly what you did. Yet look how I rewarded you. I think I understand why it happens so rarely for you."

He grinned unabashedly. "Now you're catching on, love. Although to be fair, all ulterior motives which led to my untimely death aside, you did manage to make the moments preceding my demise…invigorating."

Unable to contain her smile, she looked away from him. "Oh, Jack." Oddly enough, in that moment, caught somewhere between life and death, Elizabeth Swann had never felt more alive.

She cleared her throat. "Tia Dalma told me that in order for us to leave, we have to find the thing that you lost by coming here. Do you have any idea what she could mean?"

Jack was staring at her, a strange and perplexed expression on his face.

"Jack?"

"My compass," he said, walking to the edge of the deck.

Elizabeth followed, standing beside him. "Well? Do you know where to find it?"

He nodded, the same odd expression plastered to his face. Could she have possibly just seen a flicker of fear dart behind his eyes? It seemed almost perverse to see that amount of fear in the eyes of one so seemingly fearless, and Elizabeth couldn't help but feel a chill of foreboding.

"Out there," he said, nodding to the black expanse which surrounded the ship, and she remembered Gibbs' voice telling of horrors.

"What's out there, Jack?"

"Oh, lots of things," he replied cryptically, staring out into the darkness.

While she knew he would have to tell her eventually, she wasn't entirely sure further explanation would be helpful in convincing either of them to brave those inky depths. This assumption was especially reinforced by Jack's apparent lack of words to describe whatever out there held. Never before had Elizabeth found Captain Jack Sparrow with nothing to say.

After a moment of awkward silence, Jack spoke again. While his words sounded normal enough, for Jack at least, something in his demeanor had taken on a darker shade. "Assuming we do somehow manage to find my compass," he started, glancing sideways at Elizabeth, "how, pray tell, do we then use said compass and dally on out of here?"

Elizabeth instinctively looked up at the softly billowing sails, almost lost in the darkness. Yet as they moved, she felt no whisper of a breeze.

Jack raised an eyebrow, following her gaze. "I have no idea either, love. What I do know is that the wind that blows through here has nothing to do with them moving."

Again, Elizabeth felt more weight behind the pirate captain's words than he let on. Before she had a chance to inquire further, a soft whistling made Jack narrow his eyes. "Oh, bugger," he said under his breath, suddenly dropping to the deck in a cross-legged position. When Elizabeth didn't immediately follow suit he looked at her pointedly. "I'd suggest imitating my posture for the time being. I know you prefer the unconventional ways, but bruises would really do nothing for you."

Ignoring her normal instincts to retort, she ignored the jest and sank down beside Jack, watching him warily. "What's happening?" she asked.

He didn't look at her. All of a sudden the whistling increased in volume and Elizabeth felt the beginnings of a warm humid wind run over her once again. Without warning a tempest of memories and emotions rushed through her consciousness. Somehow this seemed different than before though. Rather than fleeting glimpses of past situations, the wind blew the less painful ones to the back of her mind and grasped with fervor to those in which Elizabeth associated the most pain, sorrow, and regret. Almost as if the first round had only been an exploration of her mind to unearth these memories and now the worst ones were flung repeatedly to the surface.

Elizabeth desperately grasped the sides of her head and leaned over, feeling increasingly nauseated as she watched her mother die and her own hands betray Jack over and over again.

Abruptly the wind ceased. Her eyes gradually readjusted to the dim lighting and, still breathing heavily, she pushed herself from her elbows back to a normal sitting position. Elizabeth gulped the stale air for several seconds and realized her face was damp. She'd been crying. Was this the torment Jack had been enduring this entire time? Vaguely she realized that the wind had worsened for her on only the second round and therefore would continue to do so the longer one remained.

Elizabeth slowly turned her eyes to Jack, almost afraid to see him in such a vulnerable state as herself. He was sitting in the same position as when the wind had started; cross-legged, staring out into the vast nothingness around them. The only difference now was the lack of his usually emotional face. Everything about him, for the moment, seemed abnormally blank.

Seeming to sense she was watching, Jack snapped out of his catatonic stare and looked at her sideways. "Not so bad, eh?" He flashed a half-grin that tugged his mustache up but none of the humor really reached his eyes. In one fluid movement, Jack rose to his feet and whirled around in a circle, extending his arms for apparent balance. Elizabeth watched questioningly as he repeated this action a few times, occasionally leaning in one direction or the other as if he saw something. After a moment he turned back to her with a look of complete assurance on his face.

"Nope, don't see any more windy people right now." He extended a hand to Elizabeth.

She gave him a queer expression. "Windy people?"

Jack nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Windy people. You know, when the wind blows," he began animatedly gesturing with his hands, "and the little bitty windy people come running along and then scamper about your noggin for a bit. Windy people."

Half smiling, Elizabeth accepted his hand and allowed him to pull her up.

"So what now my ever so knowledgeable rescuer who really needs to rescue herself and by doing so rescue me?" Jack crossed his arms.

Elizabeth looked around and noted the absence of any long-boats. Jack followed her eyes and raised an eyebrow. "Yes, we are currently lacking in those."

Taking a breath, she said, "I guess we're going for a swim then."

Jack harrumphed. "Why swim when you can take a boat?"  
"But you just said-?"

"If you're going to make a proper pirate one day, Elizabeth, then you've got to realize that just because we're lacking in something does not mean we can't obtain it."

Elizabeth crossed her arms in return. "And who do you propose we steal it from, Jack?"

Jack smiled. "Commandeer, love. Commandeer."

**A/N: **So?? What does everyone think of Jack? Review review!


	5. Chapter 5

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A/N: As always, continued thanks to all our reviewers. And to a certain one by the name of "Skeptical", we would have loved to discuss your thoughts further but, seeing as you are anonymous, that possibility was quite impossible. Not improbable, mind you. Impossible.

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Disclaimer: Obviously, if we owned Pirates, we would be writing real scripts and not fan fiction. Ta ta.

CHAPTER FIVE

Elizabeth stared at him incredulously. "Commandeer? And who, pray tell, are we supposed to commandeer from? In case you haven't noticed, we're rather alone here."

Jack leaned in closer to her, invading her personal space once more. "Ah, but you see Lizzie, you only assumed that we're alone, and by assuming so, you closed yourself off to a great many possibilities."

"What possibilities, Jack?" She asked softly.

He didn't reply, instead gazing out at the horizon, or rather where the horizon would normally be. She followed his gaze, seeing nothing more than the usual inky darkness.

Just as she was about to question Jack once more, looming shapes began to appear beside the ship, and she wondered how she had managed to miss them before. One by one, boats holding a single occupant moved by in a ghostly procession, adding to the already macabre atmosphere.

"Who are they?" She whispered, wondering if they could hear her. It was only after the words were out of her mouth that she realized the futility of the question. "Oh," she breathed, clutching the railing.

"They're going off to the great beyond, I imagine, love."

"Why them? Why not you?"

"Those sorry buggers are at peace or something. Savvy?"

"And you're not at peace," she said rhetorically.

He answered nonetheless. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," he said as if that explained everything, extending his arms.

"Of course," she said, as realization suddenly dawned on her. "Jack, you can't! That's horrible," she finished weakly, feeling a slight twinge of disappointment that even still, he would do whatever it took to ensure his own survival.

As if reading her mind, he simply shrugged. "Were you expecting anything more of me, Elizabeth?"

"Quite frankly, yes," she said honestly, feeling a sudden wave of nostalgia for Will; good, honest Will who would never dream of committing such a deplorable act. Yet on the other hand, he probably wouldn't be able to get them out of their current predicament, either.

He sighed, tugging on his beaded beard. "Listen, most of those buggers deserve whatever comes to them. And besides, its not as if they'll drown without their boat, love. They'll figure something out, even if it takes them a few years of paddling around in the afterlife."

She sighed in return, leaning over the railing. A boat would certainly be preferable to swimming, and however amoral Jack's suggestion sounded to her ears, she could, in time, convince herself that no harm had truly been done.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked hollowly.

Jack flashed her a mischievous grin. "Nothing too fancy. First, you distract some poor bugger with your… womanly wiles." He eyed her up and down and Elizabeth crossed her arms with a scowl. "And while you do that, I'll scurry myself down to the water and whack him in the head!" He finished with a dramatic clap of his hands.

Rolling her eyes slightly, Elizabeth countered, "And by what "womanly wiles" should I lure this soul, who's already at peace, to forsake his afterlife and come join me on this ragged ship?"

Jack feigned a hurt expression. "Ragged? Just needs a good scrubbing it does. And in response to your latter query," he grimaced slightly, rubbing the wrist he'd freed from the shackles before encountering the Kraken. "Well, it seems to be the case, that you are more than experienced in getting men into whatever position you want them." Elizabeth lowered her eyes. Jack continued, "After all, it's not every wench who can convince half the men, and boys, in the Caribbean to roll all over themselves for a chance to savor your sweet affections. Oh, and by the way, _has_ anyone savored your sweet affections yet?"

"Jack!"

Widening his eyes but still smiling, Jack raised his hands in surrender. "Just checking, love."

"That's none of your business!" she continued hotly. She glanced at the boats continuing to pass slowly by. In one she glimpsed a rather rough looking man, probably a sailor, and probably more than accustomed to fast-moving relationships, for lack of a more appropriate term. Ignoring Jack's stare, Elizabeth undid the top of her collar and pushed her breasts up so a fair amount of cleavage was visible.

"Um, all you had to do was ask, love," Jack murmured, his jaw dropped ever so slightly. Elizabeth glared at him. Yet, at the same time, she didn't really feel any anger, only a vague annoyance that was mostly covered up by her joy of seeing him again. Despite his flaws, this was the Jack she'd needed to see so desperately since his death.

__

Since I killed him, she reminded herself, instantly sobering to the task at hand.

"Let's get this over with," she ordered, taking a step closer to the railing. With a shrug, Jack hurried off, disappearing into the darkness.

"Hello!" Elizabeth called out. At first the sailor did not respond. "Sailor! Hello down there!" This time several faces briefly turned her way but only the one continued to watch as she leaned precariously over the side, her bosoms bunching and rising higher over her dress line. He raised a hand and waved cautiously, as if not sure what he was actually seeing.

"You know," Elizabeth continued, her voice low and sultry, "If you keep going you'll never see anything like this again."

The man scratched his head. "Anything like what?"

Resisting the urge to scowl, Elizabeth fingered the fabric covering her chest. "Why don't you come closer and you'll find out."

Apparently just now realizing what she was implying, the sailor reached his oars deep and began paddling anxiously toward the Pearl. Just as he reached the side Elizabeth saw something shift in the darkness just before the man hurled over into the water. Jack's face appeared a moment later. "What did I tell you, Lizzie? You're a natural at this."

"Apparently," she muttered. She began to hike up her skirts to climb over the side but thought better of it. With a few curt movements, Elizabeth removed her dress and remaining petty-coats underneath. "Don't say a word," she warned Jack as she made her descent to the boat.

Jack eyed her innocently. "Wasn't going to." She didn't believe him. Although Elizabeth did note that he had the decency to look away as she entered backwards, and rather awkwardly, onto her seat. Wordlessly, Jack picked up the oars and began slowly rowing so they rejoined the macabre procession.

Feeling a slight change in the dead air made Elizabeth raise her head in dread. "Jack," she asked softly, "can the wind still reach us out here?"

"No," he replied in an equally low tone. Somehow in their current situation it seemed only appropriate to not disturb the passing souls around them. "But that's not what we should be worrying about now."

"We shouldn't be here," Elizabeth whispered, remembering the strange entity that had briefly spoken through Tia Dalma. "Jack, what have we done?"

Jack shook his head at her worried expression. "Nothing that hasn't been done before. As long as we don't try to pass over with the lot of them here, we'll be left well enough alone by them."

It struck Elizabeth as strange to hear Jack refer to "them" but she let it pass.

For what seemed like hours they drifted along on an invisible current. The unearthly gathering of boats continued to move on their own accord despite their occupants, many of whom seemed too confused to do anything. As they moved, the darkness thickened and soon only boats on either side of them remained visible through the black fog. Every so often Jack began to drum his fingers but otherwise stayed oddly silent.

"I think we're here," he announced suddenly, his voice flat.

"How do you know?" she asked uneasily.

"The current's changing," he said in reply. Looking around, Elizabeth saw that it was so. The many ships that had accompanied them on their journey were suddenly veering off, leaving only mist in their wake. Their boat continued to glide through the water for a moment, halting jerkily as the tell-tale scrape of sand gave away their whereabouts, eventually coming to a full stop.

"Land ho," Elizabeth said humorlessly.


	6. Chapter 6

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Disclaimer: I'm not sure why I change this every chapter…we own nothing. The end.

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Chapter Six:

After her eyes had adjusted to the dark, Elizabeth quickly glanced around at the deserted beach, noting that the black sand sloped off into a foreboding forest. Her gaze skittered to Jack, who apparently had also taken a moment to study their surroundings. Apparently unfazed, he jumped out of the boat into the ankle deep water, dragging until it rested entirely on the sand.

"It's really not so bad, actually. With a good bottle of rum, good company," he cast a meaningful look at Elizabeth at the latter half of the sentence, "I'm betting we'd forget all the former unpleasantness of this little trip and start to remember what makes us tick, love."

Elizabeth, casting Jack a long-suffering glare which barely concealed her humor jumped out of the boat as well. "And I suppose I'm to believe that you've actually been to less savory places than this?"

He grinned, which seemed blaringly out of place given their current circumstances. "I take it you've never been to Singapore."

She grinned as well, but it was short lived, as the bleakness of their situation set in once again. It might have been her imagination, but the darkness seemed to have grown thicker, almost as if it had ceased being merely the lack of light and had become its own separate entity. Which of course, she told herself, was entirely possible.

"Well, I suppose we'd better start looking for your compass, Jack," she said in a near whisper, for fear of advertising their whereabouts. She took a tentative step forward, the black sand crunching slightly beneath her soles.

"That would be a very logical course of action, Lizzie, and under different circumstances I would be inclined to agree completely."

She cringed at his loud tone of voice, yet something about the way he had spoken gave her pause.

"Oh? And did you have a better plan in mind?"

"On the contrary, darling. As a matter of fact, there is very little I'd rather do at this moment than to find said compass and by doing so, find ourselves finding a way out of here. However, I'm afraid we have company." Jack stared pointedly to something directly behind her, and she gasped, whirling around to face another unknown horror.

The being standing a mere yards away from her could have passed as a child, but in their current context, it was so clearly not a child that the idea seemed almost laughable. Its eyes were dark, fathomless, and seemingly full of ancient knowledge. It stared at them for several moments, not speaking, its pale hair stirring in the breeze. Elizabeth's jaw tightened, preparing to drop to her knees should the windy people return, yet another moment passed, and she relaxed slightly.

"Elizabeth Swann," the thing said, its voice a strange cacophony which sounded simultaneously childlike and adult, both male and female.

Startled, Elizabeth jumped, taking several steps backwards before colliding with something solid. It took several panic-stricken seconds before she realized it was Jack. For his part, he appeared the epitome of calm, his features once again impassive and unreadable.

Taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart, she stepped forward, willing her face to also take on a mask of fearlessness.

"Yes," she said smoothly, confidently, her voice betraying none of the fear she was feeling.

"You have spoken to us before, have you not?"

"Yes," she said once again.

"You have taken great lengths to retrieve this soul from us. As such, we believe that your motives are pure, and we'll be letting you pass." The entity's cold eyes regarded her cryptically for a moment, before moving onto Jack.

"And you, Jack Sparrow," it said to Jack.

"Captain," Elizabeth heard him mutter under his breath. "Yes?"

"The one who has entered our realm to retrieve you has passed the test thus far, but there will be one remaining task for the both of you to complete. That is, of course, if you're willing."

"Oh, I'm more than willing, mate. Not," he said, noticing the way the thing narrowed its eyes, "that I haven't enjoyed my stay here, mind you. In fact, you've been quite accommodating, all things considered, although, if you'd like any suggestions…"

"Quiet," the thing said fiercely, cutting him off. "Now, listen carefully." It took a step closer to them, and Elizabeth could see that the former childishness of its face was gone, replaced with a gaunt and wizened look. "In order to leave us, you must find what we took from you."

"His compass," Elizabeth stated before thinking.

The thing turned in her direction, and she shrunk back slightly.

"Yes, Elizabeth Swann, his compass. Once you find the compass, it will tell you what you must do."

"How do we find the compass?" she asked, her need to know the details of their task outweighing her fear of the entity.

It stepped even closer, and she was able to make out the harsh lines of its face. Its gaze then darted to Jack.

"Jack Sparrow knows, don't you?"

Jack grimaced slightly. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do."

"Very well then. We wish you both an enlightened journey." The thing began backing away into the darkness.

"One thing before you go," Jack started, and the creature appeared startled for a moment by his audacity.

"What?" it hissed, clearly annoyed.

"Well, it just seems that if we're to be faced with such a harrowing task, and since you clearly want us to succeed, our odds of success would be greatly increased by a little illumination."

The thing made a dangerous sound, and Elizabeth closed her eyes as if in prayer. Surely, their chances of leaving were now ruined.

"You presume to tell us what to do with the souls in our realm?"

"I just thought I'd ask, mate."

It made an eerie humming noise. "Very well, Jack Sparrow. If its light you want, then we'll give it to you."

There was suddenly a flash of light so intense that Elizabeth immediately shielded her eyes. Uncovering them a moment later, she was somewhat surprised at the novelty of being able to look at her surroundings.

She spun around to look at Jack, who had a similarly surprised expression.

"You can thank me later, love. Right now, we have a compass to recover."

Elizabeth nodded, gazing out over the black sand beach. There was no sign of the entity to be found, however, she was now aware of the never-ending procession of boats which continued to pass steadily by the island. At least, she assumed it was an island, although there apparently was no tide to contend with.

She turned her attention back to Jack. "The entity said you know where the compass is."

He gave her an apparently bemused expression. "That's a funny thing, that is. You see, apparently, in order for us to find the compass, we both have to agree, without speaking, as to where the aforementioned compass will be."

For once, she found no humor in something said by Jack. "And you've known this all along?"

"Not known exactly, more suspected, had an inkling, that sort of thing."

"But how could you possibly have known that?"

He shrugged. "You forget, love, that I've been here quite a bit longer than yourself."

"So that's why you never tried to get out yourself," she said in a wave of realization. "There has to be a second person."

They both looked at each other in that moment, their eyes locking in determination.

"Well, let's do this then," Elizabeth said. She continued to lock her eyes with Jack's, hoping that somehow his thoughts would manage to intertwine with hers. They stared at each other for what seemed like ages, but to no avail.

Sighing in defeat, Elizabeth dropped her eyes. "I don't think this is working."

Jack grabbed her hand, and she gasped.

"Once again," he told her, his voice oddly serious.

She nodded, and once again, they locked eyes. Suddenly, she felt an almost painful surge run through their linked hands, and although her first impulse was to wrench away from his grasp, instead, she gripped harder.

His mind was suddenly open to her like a book, the pages fluttering before her eyes, and she was tempted to pull away, knowing that hers was similarly laid out. She suddenly caught glimpses of the memories the windy people had surely preyed on, and she gasped, trying to keep the horrified expression from her face.

"Jack…" she started, but was silenced by the tugging of her own painful memories being pulled to the surface. "Enough!" she cried suddenly, pulling roughly away from him.

Neither spoke for a moment, both filled with equal loathing at having had their privacy invaded so completely.

It was Jack who broke the silence. "Not so bad, eh?" he asked, much as after the windy people incident.

It really wasn't, she decided, if only because at that moment, they both knew where the compass was.

They both moved down the beach a few yards, and without speaking, began to dig in the black sand. The sand was hot from the bright sunlight, and she hissed slightly as it burned her hands.

"You had to have light, didn't you?" she asked quietly, making an attempt at normalcy, yet failing in the progress.

They had dug for barely a minute when Elizabeth felt her hand brush against something solid, and she gave an audible sigh of relief.

"Here it is," she said, stating the obvious.

He pulled it out of the sand, brushing it off and regarding closely.

"Well, does it work now?"

He harrumphed slightly. "I'll have you know, my compass always works."

A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she looked more closely at the line of boats. Something about one of the occupants looked startlingly familiar, and she stood up to her feet, feeling the blood drain from her body as she looked into the eyes of Governor Swann.

"It can't be," she said under her breath. Forgetting the compass for a moment, she ran down the beach until she was close enough to regard him fully. At a closer angle, there was no doubt about it. Her father sat in a boat, a placid expression glued to his face as his boat peacefully sailed through the water.

"Father!" she cried loudly.

He looked up, clearly startled. "Oh, Elizabeth. What are you doing here? Are you dead too?"

"No, I'm not. What happened to you?"

He seemed to think carefully for a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration. "That's a very good question, but for some reason I'm having a great deal of trouble remembering. It seemed to have something to do with Beckett. Yes, I believe that was it."

Briefly disregarding his last statement, she called out, "Father, I've got Jack's compass. You can come with us!"

He looked confused for a moment, as if at a loss as to why he would want to do such a thing.

"Father?"

He didn't answer once again, his boat drifting further down the current.

"Father!" she yelled, her voice bordering on hysteria. "Answer me! Please," she felt a sudden rush of tears. "I need you."

He looked up at that, regarding her fondly. "I'm so proud of you, Elizabeth. I'll be sure to tell your mother just how well you've turned out." His voice grew fainter as his boat continued to drift. "I guess I'll be seeing you again before too long."

"No!" she screamed, forgetting reason for a moment and rushing into the water. She was nearly waist deep when she felt strong arms restraining her movements, dragging her back to the beach. She fought briefly against them in vain, then grew limp as a rag doll, allowing herself to be dragged along. Once on the beach, she crumpled dejectedly into a heap, sobbing bitterly.

A few moments passed before she became aware once more of her surroundings, and she raised her head wearily from her hands. Jack sat cross-legged nearby, looking silently out at the passing boats. He glanced at her briefly.

"I really am sorry about your father, Elizabeth, but if we ever want to get out of here, we'd best do it quickly."

She nodded, standing up shakily. Jack quickly followed suit, wordlessly handing her the compass. As always, it spun briefly for a moment before landing on Jack.

"Not again," she muttered. She was then aware of holding something in her free hand, and looked down, startled to see a knife.

"That answers that question," Jack said, also looking down at the knife.

She shook her head, stepping away. "No, Jack. I can't do it. I'm sorry, but I can't." Already in an emotionally precarious situation, she felt tears begin to well in her eyes once again.

"You have to," he said firmly. "It's the only way, love."

She nodded, a resolute expression in her eyes. Raising the knife shakily, she said, "hopefully I'll see you on the other side." She brought the knife down swiftly, in what she hoped was a lethal blow, vaguely aware of a silent scream which she kept bottled in her throat. She backed away, having murdered Jack Sparrow once again, then with a startled gasp, fell beside him on the sand.

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A/N: We live on reviews. We breathe reviews. In absence of real money, we are sustained wholly on reviews. So the moral of the story is: REVIEW PLEASE!


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** Ditto Ditto Ditto

**A/N:** Here's one to get you boys and girls talking. However there is one thing I would love all of you to remember: this is a fantasy, a fanfiction, and an original work all rolled in one. If you think you could do better, please refrain from commenting on such, and do so yourself. Thanks very much.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Will's despondent state changed little over the course of the day. The bitter air had warmed ever so slightly so it was now at least bearable to remain in one place for a period of time. Not that Will really took any notice of that. His elbows were bent and rested on his knees, his eyes peering unceasingly over the calm waters. More than once he had been reminded that a lookout up in the crow's nest was on a constant watch but Will couldn't force himself into another engagement at the moment. His thoughts and gaze refused to lift from their current fixation.

Barely taking notice, Will realized someone had come to stand beside him. Gibbs seated himself quietly beside the grieving younger man and took up a similar stance.

"They'll be back, you know," said Gibbs after a few silent minutes. "Who better to figure somethin' out than Miss Elizabeth and Jack, right?"

Will sighed but still didn't turn his head even as he spoke. "How long have you known Jack, Mr. Gibbs?"

Eyebrows furrowed in thought, Gibbs reached up and absently scratched his head. "Hmm. I say.. going on ten years now it seems. Met him not long after he was treacherously mutinied and marooned on that island."

"And escaped on a couple of sea turtles, right?" Will's mouth quirked ever so slightly. Gibbs nodded in confirmation.

"Aye, that he did."

Will swallowed hard before voicing his next question. "Would Jack…would Jack do everything he could to escape Davy Jones' locker?"

Gibbs eyed him knowingly for a moment. "Aye."

Despite the reassurance from a second party, Will's gut clenched painfully as he thought more on the subject. Now that Jack had a companion, would he truly try his hardest to escape? Or would he selfishly leave them both there, somewhere between this life and the next, where no person and no thing could touch him again?

A disturbance in the water instantly tore Will from his anguished thoughts and he leapt to his feet, ignoring the pins and needles that stabbed through his limbs at the sudden movement. Could it be? Gibbs anxiously followed his gaze beside him. A moment of utter disappointment enveloped Will when he couldn't locate the cause of the disturbance. After all, it had probably been a fish. But, just as sudden as the first, an alteration in the relative calm of the sea drew his attention. This time two distinct shapes bobbed out of the water, one with something that continued to glint and reflect the sun's harsh glare on the icy waters.

"Man overboard!" the shout from the crow's nest came in sync with Will's hoarse yell, "I see them!"

All at once, a flurry of orders from Barbossa drew the crew back from a state of lethargy to the well-oiled sailors they were.

"Hurry it up, you good-for-nothing' simpletons!" he roared, glaring around at anyone who reacted slower than another. "They be dead again if ye loitering fools don't move!"

Without pausing to ask permission, Will grabbed for a line and began lowering it to the sea. The ship seemed to move in slow motion as they slowly closed the distance between them and the two unmoving shapes who continued to float unawares of their soon to be rescuers. Will's breath caught in his throat and he froze. Once he could see their faces, a wave of dread passed over him. Were they too late? Had Elizabeth and Jack's souls been caught in the Locker and their bodies sent back here only to haunt them?

"Out of the way, Mr. Turner," Barbossa growled, coming alongside him and yanking the line from his grasp. Will wordlessly stepped back, aware that he was hindering their efforts more than assisting at the moment. Ropes were gently maneuvered around the prone forms below and with a yell of heave, lifted free of the icy liquid.

"Elizabeth.." Will whispered, his face contorted with pain as her blue-tinted skin came into view. Jack appeared no better. Once high enough, many hands lifted and gripped until both were lowered bonelessly to the deck.

Will's world faded to include only Elizabeth then. He gently felt for a pulse, noting that she felt unbelievably cold. He let out a choked sound.

She was alive.

Idly he realized Tia Dalma was kneeling between Jack and Elizabeth, placing hands on their chests and whispering foreign words that he couldn't understand. Blankets came from somewhere and he deftly wrapped Elizabeth's frail form tight, leaning in to spread what body warmth he had to her. Suddenly she and Jack gasped, bodies rearing up. Tia Dalma stepped back, a satisfied expression on her face as they coughed and heaved excess water from their lungs for several minutes.

"Will?" Elizabeth murmured, her eyes opening ever so slightly. Will smiled and began rubbing her freezing hands together, gently blowing on them. "I'm here," he replied tenderly. As Elizabeth smiled back, she suddenly remembered what was happening. "Jack!" she gasped, struggling to sit up.

"It's a bit…cold in here, eh?" Jack griped jokingly, his teeth chattering. He was already sitting, though not without some assistance from Gibbs.

"We need more blankets!" Will barked, not caring who complied as long as it was done. Both Jack and Elizabeth were shivering violently as their soaked clothes met with the arctic air.

"Dey need to be stripped of dere clothings," Tia Dalma cut in, her voice strangely calm considering the situation.

Jack reacted with a surprised expression before jerkily getting to his feet. "I'm quite capable," he announced, holding up a finger and swaying slightly, "and qualified, not to mention in charge, and therefore will be doing that all by my self." He glanced at Elizabeth briefly, something odd lurking in his expression, before sauntering off toward the stairs. Gibbs and a couple others dogged his steps as Jack careened in several wrong directions before precariously making his way below deck.

Without having to be asked, Will lifted Elizabeth in an infantile pose and carried her in the same direction. She leaned into Will's embrace, resting her head against his shoulder and sighing deeply.

"I told you I'd come back," she said softly, so only he could hear.

Uncaring of Barbossa's thoughts on the matter, Will carried her straight to his cabin and deposited her gently on the bed. Tia Dalma, who had followed close behind, looked at him pointedly and pointed to the door. "Go find some dry clothes," she directed. Hating the thought of leaving Elizabeth but knowing he must, Will hurried out in search of extra clothing, hoping he could keep himself occupied for the time being.

Several minutes later he returned, shouldering an armload of spare materials donated from various members of the crew. Will knocked lightly.

"Come in, William Turner," Tia Dalma's voice carried through the wall. He entered and looked at Elizabeth anxiously. She was half sitting, wrapped tightly in several blankets and looking considerably better than before. A small smile formed on her lips at the sight of Will.

"I brought all I could find." He held out the clothes to Tia Dalma. She deftly set them on a chair. "When you feel ready," she told Elizabeth. Then she rapidly departed, muttering something about Jack under her breath. Will absently wondered how his daft pirate friend was doing, momentarily forgetting all animosity toward him.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Will looked Elizabeth in the eyes and, for the first time in a near month, she didn't avert her gaze.

"Will…" she started, her voice all but betraying the turmoil of emotions coursing through her.

He hushed her, lightly pushing a strand of damp hair from her face. She shook her head, not lowering it though as their stares increased in intensity.

"I killed him," she said suddenly, her tone higher than usual with pent up anguish. Will's questioning look spurred her on. "Jack came back to the Pearl… but he wasn't going to stay behind." she paused for a moment. "So I kissed him. And I chained him to the mast with irons. And then I said I wasn't sorry." Tears made hot paths down the side of her face and she searched Will's face, desperately urging him to understand.

Instead of pulling back in repulsion, or sneering in disgust, Will finally felt he knew his fiancé again. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, the sympathy clear in his voice.

Elizabeth lowered her eyes. "It was my burden to bare."

Pulling her slightly forward, they hugged tightly, Elizabeth's shoulders shaking as she cried silently on his shoulder. Eventually her tears subsided and she lay back, huddling in the covers for warmth.

"You don't…" Will could hardly manage to voice the question. "You don't love him then?"

"We understand each other, that's all," came her soft reply. At that moment the cabin door reopened and Tia Dalma reappeared, this time holding a steaming mug. Elizabeth didn't question but took it gratefully and sipped the chills from her body.

"How's Jack?" Will asked before she walked out again.

Tia Dalma smiled that mischievous smile that seemed reserved solely for Jack Sparrow.

"Captain Jack is returned."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** We own nada.

**A/N:** To all you confused people out there, have faith.

In response to "Lala": I'd love to allay your fears, however you left no way for us to respond to you. If you send us a signed review or message we are both more than happy to discuss things. Hope you continue to read!

Chapter Eight

Will broodingly watched the waves roll by just as they had for the last two or so weeks since rescuing Jack. The only thing piercing the impenetrable monotony at the moment were his thoughts, which of late had included little but Elizabeth. Although many of his fears had been put to rest after she and Jack had returned from the Locker, there still seemed to be something slightly askew. Even though she had confided in him initially, lately she had become more and more reclusive. As much as he hated the thought of it, he couldn't help but think that something odd had occurred between Elizabeth and Jack in the Locker, for after the return they had habitually avoided each other. In fact, Will would have been surprised if they had exchanged more than one word since returning.

Again and again, Will's thoughts also turned to his father. He had promised Bootstrap that he would free him, and Will Turner was nothing if not a man of his word. The only problem, of course, was how.

"You have the look about you of a person who is entertaining all manners of thoughts, mate," an all too familiar voice suddenly interrupted. "In fact," Jack continued, "you remind me a little of my great-aunt Martha. She used to write poetry, you see, and she would look very much as you do at the moment just before she composed a sonnet. If not for the," he waved his hands dramatically, "well, subtle differences, I'd almost think I was seeing a ghost, mate."

Will scowled slightly, feeling in no mood for Jack's antics.

Jack regarded him knowingly, smiling that slightly wicked smile of his. "Ah, but of course. Would the reason for your present vexation be any other than your dear, bonnie lass, who is currently avoiding you as we speak?"

"She's avoiding you as well, and you her." Will countered, regarding the pirate captain closely.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jack said flippantly, nervously fingering his compass.

Will decided to let it pass. "Jack," he began, "I don't know if I've told you this since you've been back, but I really am glad we were able to bring you back from the Locker. It…hasn't been the same without you."

Jack nodded brusquely, clearly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken. "Well, I hope you're not looking to kiss me, mate," he said, putting his hands in the air slightly in mock surrender.

Ignoring the last comment, Will continued. "What was in the Locker, Jack? I have to know. I want to be able to help Elizabeth."

Jack's features darkened imperceptibly. "And supposing I did tell you, what makes you so certain that the said information would in any way, shape, or form make you any more capable of helping," he put his fingers in quotation marks around the latter word, "your darling fiancé?"

It was at that moment that Will spotted Elizabeth walking across the deck.

"Oh bugger," Jack muttered, apparently having spotted her as well. Will rolled his eyes as Jack ducked behind him.

"She's gone," Will told him a moment later.

Brushing himself off slightly, Jack stood to his feet. "I don't know what you're talking about." At that, Jack sauntered off, swaying slightly as usual.

Will continued to brood long after Jack was out of sight. He wanted to help Elizabeth, yet she appeared to want no part in it. He wanted to help his father, and as much as his father had tried to hide the hope in his eyes, Will knew that he wanted to be helped.

The first course of action, logically, would be in getting Davy Jones' heart back. Possessing the heart would give him the leverage he needed to barter for his father's soul. But how would he go about doing so? The heart, to his knowledge, was in the possession of Beckett, and he could only assume it was heavily guarded. It would be one thing if he had the support of Jack, Barbossa, and the rest of the crew, but he honestly did not trust them to not want the heart for their own ends. And as confidant as he was in his own swordsmanship, he knew he was no match for several armed men.

The tentative workings of a plan suddenly sprung forth in his mind. If he was to use leverage on Davy Jones, first he must use leverage on Beckett. And the best leverage, he knew from experience, was what that person wanted most. He grimaced slightly, realizing something with a start.

He knew exactly what that leverage would have to be.

Barbossa and Jack sat on opposite sides of the table. Tia Dalma had seated herself on the end as to signify her role of instigator of this discussion as well as a referee of sorts between the two ornery pirate captains. Barbossa, back straight as a board, seemed thoroughly irate at having to be there. On his ship a woman of all things was ordering him around. If not for his indebtedness to Tia Dalma, no such meeting would be occurring. Jack, on the other hand, looked extremely pleased. His feet propped lazily on the table top, arms crossed loosely, and a half smirk on his features, he was the picture of contentment.

"I am assuming ye know why we be here right now," Tia Dalma started out, glancing between the two of them. Barbossa's frown deepened.

His expression claiming innocence, Jack piped in. "I, for one, have no clue at all. I mean, honestly, for what possible purpose could you have called me and my good friend Barbossa here, together for?" Jack widened his eyes and leaned a bit closer to Barbossa. "Oh, and by the way, mate," he stage-whispered, "sorry 'bout that whole shooting you business. Didn't want to upset dear William you see. You really should hear how high his voice can get when he cries!" he finished, pointing backwards with his thumb.

Barbossa rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Why don't you remind us then?" he directed to Tia Dalma, his voice ostensibly sweet.

"We be here to decide who get to play captain for da rest of our journey."

"_Play _captain?" Jack interjected. "Doesn't that imply that whomever does the aforementioned action, obviously Barbossa or myself, will be in fact _pretending _to be captain? If that's the case, then I definitely vote for Barbossa. He's the best fake captain I've ever met."

"Oh, will ye shut up," Barbossa growled. "Seeing as I've been captain longer, and started out captain of this little venture, I be seein' no point in this argument."

"There's your problem, you see, Barbossa. You never see the point." Jack languidly crossed his legs in the other direction. "If you could really see a point in an argument, I mean, discussion of a slightly disagreeable sort, then we wouldn't he having that discussion in the first place. See my point?"

Somehow able to completely ignore their banter, Tia Dalma continued as if they'd said nothing. "The decision had already been made."

"By who?" they both spoke at once. Tia Dalma smiled a sugary smile, though her blackened teeth spoke of having perhaps too much of such in her lifetime.

"By me," she replied. "And my decision be Captain Barbossa."

Feet plopping loudly to the wooden planks, Jack sputtered, "But- well- that's just not fair at all, is it?"

"She spoke her word," Barbossa sneered. "There will be no more discussion. See my point?"

With a slight grimace, Jack continued, "I have no idea what you're talking about, mate. And besides, I've been here longer. I know more about it."

Barbossa countered, "And that whole time ye have been dead. Not chartin' the waters."

"So?"

Tia Dalma raised her hands and they both silenced immediately. "You can leave now, Captain Barbossa." With a satisfied expression, Barbossa stood and sauntered out, closing the door firmly behind him. She turned back to Jack. "Jack Sparrow, ye have betta tings to be doin' dan captain a ship."

"Like lie in a hammock and drink rum? That'd be nice except for one minuscule problem. We're not currently in possession of a hammock and rum."

She raised an eyebrow pointedly. "Ye know of what I speak."

Jack's expression darkened slightly and he absently rubbed his wrists. "Such unpleasantries shouldn't invade one's second life. Can't you just go poof or something?"

"No, and neider can you. If you ever want your Pearl back, you will be needin' a good plan."

This time Jack's smile was genuine. "Whoever said I use plans?" he spread his arms wide.

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, love."


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: dsfjlksdfjlkdsfaljkdfsaljk;oiuiuroiugfs,mcxcbvc**

**Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to get this one up, but we went to Pride, and that took up a great deal of our time. Sorry bout that, kids.**

The wind stayed with them throughout the remainder of their journey. The air had so long been cold and frigid that the transition back to warmer waters was almost painful at first, though extremely welcomed. Barbossa grew increasingly annoyed as he continually found person after person just laying about the deck, basking in their newfound warmth. Especially when such a person turned out to be Jack, who seemed to go out of his way to irk the official captain.

Elizabeth persisted in habitually avoiding all manner of contact. However, big though the ship may have been, it was inevitable that she would occasionally be forced into close proximity with her fellow shipmates. When such an occasion occurred, she would answer any inquiries politely before quickly leaving the area.

It was rather late, and Jack had been wondering about below deck in the hopes of finding some hidden stash of rum, but after searching for nearly an hour, decided to give up.

"Why is the rum always bloody gone?" he said finally. As if in answer, a coil of ropes fell onto him. Standing up in resolution, he began inconspicuously sauntering off towards Barbossa's quarters, fully intending to ransack them while Barbossa was above deck.

A pair of hushed voices caught his attention, and he stopped in his tracks, swaying slightly with the motion of the ship, his hands outstretched for balance.

"If you would just talk to me, Elizabeth, then I could help you," he heard Will's voice say. Jack couldn't help but smirk at the statement. Always the hero, that William.

He vaguely heard Elizabeth say something in reply, but it was too soft to be discernable. He cautiously crept closer, and peering around a corner, could see both Will and Elizabeth. The latter was standing in a defensive posture, her arms crossed and chin jutting resolutely. Well, well, he thought, silently cheering her on.

He attempted to lean in closer, but misjudged his balance and instead stumbled forward. Regaining his footing, he straightened his shoulders, grinning his trademark grin at the two scowling faces in front of him.

"Nice night for a walk, eh? Or perhaps you were about to engross in a bit of sword play. I know you did mention that once, Lizzie, him teaching you to…how did you put it? Handle a sword?"

Elizabeth shot him a dangerous look. Will simply frowned, giving him a look one would usually reserve for a petulant child.

"Do you mind, Jack?"

Jack shrugged, idly turning his compass around in his hand. "No. No, I really don't, mate."

He stood there for a few moments, noting that the tension in the room was almost palpable. Sneaking a glance at the pair, he was pleased to see that Will had taken on a look of defeat.

"I'll speak to you some other time, Elizabeth," he said before brushing past Jack. Jack watched him leave, a slight smirk playing on his features.

"You're being ridiculous," Elizabeth spat vehemently, drawing herself up to meet him in the eyes. "Ever since we've returned, you've avoided me at every turn, you haven't spoken to me once, and now you've resorted to spying on my private conversations. I thought you had more integrity than that, Jack."

He raised a finger, "actually…"

"Why have you been avoiding me, Jack?" she asked, an expression intermingled with anger and hurt on her face.

"The funny thing about that question, love, is that by asking it, you not only are asking me why I am supposedly avoiding you when in fact the answer lies in you asking yourself that exact inquiry and in effect making yourself answer the question you asked me. Savvy?"

Elizabeth paused. "What?"

"What?" Jack quipped in a slightly higher than usual voice.

She shook her head in exasperation. Leave it to Jack Sparrow to make the first conversation they'd held in weeks nearly indiscernible. "You didn't answer my question," she continued, stubbornly refusing to back down. From Jack's entrance to Will's exit she had ironically managed to transform from the role of detainee to interrogator.

Jack smiled jeeringly. "Ah hah. You're not listening to me at all, are you? Because I just heard myself answering your question. So if I heard myself, then you should have heard myself too. That's just how things work. Unless of course, I'm thinking… then you probably wouldn't hear me…"

"Can't you be serious for one second, Jack?" Elizabeth crossed her arms, her frustration growing with each noncommittal response she received. Didn't he realize that confronting him was difficult for her as well?

Leaning precariously back and forth on the balls of his feet, Jack seemed to consider the question for a moment. Suddenly he crossed his arms as well and grinned broadly. "Nope!" Spinning around somewhat ungracefully, he started off at a quick pace. He'd only taken a few steps when a hand grabbed for his shoulder.

"Jack!" Elizabeth said harshly. With a roll of his eyes, Jack turned back to her.

"Does your perseverance know no bounds, Elizabeth?" Jack stepped backwards, shrugging her warm hand from his shoulder. "I'm not avoiding you. I'm just circumlocuting myself from otherwise disagreeable situations."

"So talking to me is disagreeable?" Elizabeth looked thoroughly angry now and she planted her hands firmly on her waist.

Jack grimaced slightly. "Well, to tell you the truth…"

Elizabeth made a sound of annoyance. "Fine! I'll leave you alone. I won't bother you any longer with my disagreeableness. Good day, Captain Sparrow!" This time it was she who spun on her heel and stalked off.

Jack watched for a moment, playing with his beaded beard.

"Hmm." He tipped his hat. "Good day then."

* * *

The former Commodore Norrington attempted to wipe the cobwebs out of his eyes, blinking rapidly in an attempt to feel awake, recalling fondly a time in which he would have had the luxury of delegating such mundane assignments. But not anymore. He had been lucky enough to be granted a full pardon, yet still remained stripped of his rank. As it was, he found himself reluctantly under the employment of the East India Trading Company, and Lord Cutler Beckett in particular.

He grimaced slightly at the thought of Lord Beckett. The man was deranged, to be certain, obsessively combing the waters for any sign of pirate ships. While Norrington certainly found no honor in engaging in piracy, and would gladly arrest any pirate that was unfortunate enough to cross his path, he was at heart a pragmatist, and could see no reason in devoting so much time and energy to what in the end was a lost cause. But as it were, the condition of the pardon was that he must serve under Lord Beckett, and he would grudgingly do so until he was able to regain his former title.

A shape on the distant horizon suddenly came into view, and he blinked, attempting to adjust the lens of his telescope. An image of a ship quickly came into focus, and he frowned, as no ships other than those belonging to the East India Trading Company were permitted on those waters. Currently, the ship was sailing directly towards them, as if to intercept. They wouldn't dare…or would they?

Just as he was preparing to open his mouth and shout out a warning to the crew, he was able to focus the lens further, nearly dropping the telescope upon doing so. Captain Barbossa was looking directly at him, and if he hadn't known any better, he would have thought Barbossa could see him. For an insane minute he thought that surely he was seeing a ghost ship, for not only could he see the formerly cursed pirate, but he could have sworn that Jack Sparrow was on the deck as well. But a ghost ship could not be moving as fast as the ship heading towards them, leading Norrington to the one logical conclusion.

"Pirates!" He yelled, and a moment later the deck was a frenzy of movement.

Maybe it would be an interesting day after all.

Review please!


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **REVIEW POR FAVOR!

**Disclaimer: **If wishes and buts were clusters of nuts then we'd all have a bowl of granola!

CHAPTER TEN

The sudden commotion about the ship did little to shake Will Turner from his thoughts. After all, he'd spotted the East India Trading Company flag some time ago from his post in the crow's nest so it was not unwelcome news to him. In fact, events were playing out just as he'd planned.

Thus far neither ship had shown signs of aggression, despite obvious protests from some members of the crew. Tia Dalma's people in particular. An unwarranted hatred radiated from their eyes after Barbossa calmly announced the other ship's arrival. Had he not been so preoccupied Will might have questioned some of them but, as it were, other thoughts continued to absorb his attention.

"If you intend to sit there all day like a wench may I suggest you do us all a favor and move," Jack said, rushing past and throwing a rope to Will. Will caught it out of instinct but immediately tossed it back to Jack.

"Fine," Will replied, standing and heading for the other end of the deck. Jack watched him in surprise.

"What's he doing?" a somewhat grating female voice demanded behind him. Jack shrugged.

"Being a wench." He shoved the rope into Elizabeth's hands and she glared as he scurried away, ordering people about half-heartedly, knowing full well that Barbossa had already done so. She watched Will curiously, then a hardened look came over her face and she stared at the opposing ship, gasping as she was able to make out not one cannon, but several. Even in the distance, she was able to spot the figures of several men poised around them, apparently preparing to fire.

"Jack!" she yelled, then changing her mind, shouted, "Barbossa!" She pushed her way towards him, ignoring the protests of several islanders. Reaching the cantankerous captain, she said breathlessly, "they have cannons!"

He gave her a look somewhere between humor and annoyance. "Aye, tell me somethin' I don't know, missy."

She glared daggers at him. "Well, in case you haven't noticed, we don't. We're no match for their ship, why aren't we retreating?"

There was a time when Barbossa wouldn't have stood for such impertinence from any member of his crew, much less a woman, but returning from the dead had done wonders for his temper. So instead of having her hauled to the brig, he simply gave her an indulgent look one might give to a feisty lapdog.

"And I suppose ye have been captain of a ship before, Miss Swann?"

"No," she said ostentatiously, looking every bit the privileged governor's daughter she was. "But I'm not an idiot, Captain Barbossa. Even I know it's suicide for an unarmed ship to face off against an armed one."

Ignoring her less than veiled implications, he chuckled sardonically. "What ye don't know would fill a book, Miss Swann." Noting her blank look, he said harshly, "it mean we be having cannons of our own."

"Oh," she said lamely, feeling a bit like a scorned child. Suddenly something oddly familiar caught her eye and Elizabeth felt a growing unease in her stomach. Not bothering to ask permission, she grabbed Barbossa's telescope and raised it to her eye. Barbossa noted it as a strange look came over her face once she put it down and he withheld from reprimanding her as he'd intended to.

"We may not have to fight," she said in a matching strange voice.

Barbossa looked at her sharply. "Why?"

Elizabeth ignored him. A figure not belonging to the Captain came to stand beside her at the rail and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Seems like all your former fiancés are getting angry with you lately," Jack greeted. Obviously he had seen Norrington as well. Elizabeth scowled.

"Can we run up a flag of truce?" she asked, directing her inquiry at Barbossa rather than Jack.

"Um," Jack put a finger on his chin, "I don't think that's a very good idea, mate."

Barbossa narrowed his eyes. "And who exactly be the captain on this ship? You or I?"

Jack rolled his eyes and glanced at Elizabeth. "If you would recall, it is because of your dear Norrington that the events of these previous two months occurred. And I doubt another wedding proposal will convince him this time."

"Somehow I doubt the offer still stands," she retorted. "And besides, I have better leverage against him now."

"Would you care to enlighten us, Miss Swann?" Barbossa said snidely when she didn't continue. But she never had a chance to.

A sudden yell from across deck drew their attention. "Man overboard!"

"Honestly. We haven't even started fighting yet," Jack quipped, leaning over the rail and glancing around. When his gaze landed on the rapidly swimming form of the overboard crewman, he grimaced. "That's not good at all."

"Where's Will?" Elizabeth asked from behind him, the slightest hint of panic already in her voice. Jack turned quickly around and placed his hands on Elizabeth's shoulders and she looked at him like he was crazy.

"You should know that I've always liked you and William. Well, sometimes one more than the other, but-"

"Apparently Mr. Turner has decided to abandon ship," announced Barbossa, something akin to a smile on his face.

"What?!" Elizabeth shrugged off Jack and peered out into the water, a look of horror spreading across her face. Jack rolled his eyes and gave Barbossa a chiding glare.

"What is he doing?" she continued, eyes glued to Will.

Jack sighed and clasped his hands in front of him. "Well, imagine how Will might think if he came from a line a rottenly dishonest pirates," he paused as Elizabeth's face paled, "oh, wait, he does. Fancy that."

Elizabeth shook her head. "No. I know what you're thinking, and you're wrong. Will is decent and noble and…"

"Eunuch," Jack coughed.

She glared at him. "Do you have such little faith in people, Jack, that you can't for one second believe that Will intends to help us?"

"Oh, I have plenty of faith in people, love. In fact, I'm so filled with faith that I just might start my own church someday. And I especially have faith in dear William."

"Faith that he'll do the wrong thing, you mean."

Jack smiled wryly at that. "No, Lizzie, not wrong. Just incredibly, irrevocably…stupid."

"You're wrong," she muttered, suddenly becoming aware once more of Barbossa, who had been watching their exchange with an amused expression. "You'll both see," she told them, but in spite of her confidant words, her heart continued to race with dread.

* * *

A short distance away, Will Turner's heart was also racing with dread. He had started out confidently, assured that he was taking the necessary steps to save his father. But as the East India Trading Company ship became more and more in focus, his convictions began to wane slightly. How could he betray them, betray Jack? True, Jack had all but given him to Davy Jones at one point, but even still, Will liked to believe he was better than that.

And what of Elizabeth? At the thought of his fiancé, his attention wavered, and he faltered in the water for a moment, gulping sea water. Sputtering, he mustered the last of the strength in his arms, a sudden spurt of energy propelling him forward. Elizabeth would have to understand, he finally told himself, the same way he had understood her obsessive need to rescue Jack. And after all, once Norrington was aware of Elizabeth's presence aboard the ship, there wasn't any way he would risk jeopardizing her safety.

One last great kick, and he was at the ship. Treading water, he frantically waved his arms in the air, sighing with relief when he was greeted by shouts and yells. A rope appeared over the side, and Will grasped it desperately, his arms burning as he was pulled over the side.

He collapsed on the deck, breathing heavily for a moment, then quickly stood to his feet, face to face with James Norrington. Several other men were standing on either side of him, their rifles poised delicately.

"William Turner," Norrington said chidingly. "How kind of you to join us. Especially considering the company you're keeping these days."

"Elizabeth," Will managed to gasp, still panting from the physical exertion.

Norrington's face noticeably hardened. "What of her?"

"She's on the ship! Please, for her sake, stand down."

A slightly panicked expression flittered across Norrington's features. "Unfortunately, I have my orders. Why did you leave her there?" he demanded harshly.

"She's not a prisoner, she's there willingly."

"Willingly?" he asked coldly. "Of course, she always did have such a fascination with those dreadful scalawags."

"Be that as it may, I know you don't want harm to come to her anymore than I do. So here's what I offer you; a means to capture not one, but two of the most infamous pirates to ever sail the sea. In exchange, of course, Elizabeth would not be harmed."

"Of course," Norrington said offhandedly.

"And secondly," Will interjected, "I would very much like an audience with Lord Beckett."

Norrington sighed. "I suppose that could be arranged. But first of all, I want to hear this plan of yours."

Will gulped slightly. He was past the point of no return. "I can tell you where they're going."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **REVIEW S'IL VOUS PLAIT!

Disclaimer: We lied. They're actually ours. That's why we're writing fanfiction under an anonymous screen name about them.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Lord Cutler Beckett drummed his fingers listlessly against the polished wood of his rich mahogany desk. Being a well-bred man, his fingernails were naturally cut short and perfectly manicured so the sound they made was a satisfying thump rather than a click. He curled his lip slightly as a disdainful thought entered his mind. He immediately stopped the drumming. A certain figure of his past had persistently used that very habit in times of boredom and Beckett's upbringing refused to allow him to partake in such a manner as those of lower stature.

A light, hesitant knock on the door signaled a hopeful end to the morning's monotony.

"Enter," he said loud enough to be heard beyond the door.

The soldier who entered looked thoroughly terrified to be standing there. He saluted stiffly before announcing his message in an overly excited voice.

"Lord Beckett, sir! A messenger has just arrived with news from Captain Norrington, sir!"

When it became apparent he wasn't going to continue, Beckett crossed his arms and raised a delicate eyebrow.

"Well, what is the news, Ensign?" he ground out slowly.

The young man jerked as if in surprise that he had been given the privilege to continue. As he spoke he seemed precariously close to tears. "Um, yes, sir! Captain Norrington will be arriving shortly and he is being willingly accompanied by one William Taylor, sir!"

Beckett pursed his lips thoughtfully. "That's William Turner, Ensign. Is that all?"

The ensign yelled, "Sir, yes, sir!"

Resisting the urge to cringe, Beckett dismissed his overzealous messenger who saluted once more before practically bolting from the room.

What a satisfying turn of events. William Turner, obviously brave while still extremely naïve to the ways of the world, returning to the man who'd been hunting him and his fiancé for the past three months. Whatever Turner was though, he was not stupid enough to come back without some sort of bargaining chip to offer. Otherwise it would be straight to the gallows with him, as it was with all others who chose to partake in piracy. The only problem was, Beckett had no fathomable idea what he could have in his possession that would be of use to him or the East India Trading Company. Davy Jones' heart was already his and Jack Sparrow, _Captain _Jack Sparrow, was busy rotting in the belly of the Kraken. What more could a man possibly hope for?

* * *

Hours before, Elizabeth had watched the retreating East India Trading Company ship with a sigh of relief. She could only guess that Will had told Norrington of her presence aboard the ship, causing him to let them pass.

"Whoever said havin' a woman aboard was bad luck?" Gibbs chuckled. "Why, if Miss Elizabeth weren't on this ship we might have been blown back to world's end."

"Aye," said several others, with the exception of Jack and Barbossa. The former was strangely quiet, giving Elizabeth an odd look.

"You see," she said, walking closer to him, as the other crew members began to disperse, "I was right. Sometimes it pays to trust, Jack."

He gave her a sly sideways glance. "Ah, yes of course, love. But unless young Mr. Turner now finds himself under the employ of the East India Trading Company," he outstretched a hand palm-up for emphasis, "which doesn't seem altogether the most likely of scenarios, then either our dashing William is in the thralls of betrayal or on a noble journey to the gallows."

His words gave her pause, but she stubbornly shook her head. "I'm sure Will has a plan of some sort. Like I said before, I trust him." Her eyes bore into his meaningfully for a moment, and she was struck by how dark and unreadable they always remained. "Have you ever trusted anyone that completely, Jack?"

He smiled at that, the sun glinting off the gold in his teeth. "You're looking at him, love."

Elizabeth looked away, suddenly unsure how to respond. She chided herself silently. Had she honestly expected him to answer?

"That must be awful for you, Jack," she continued after a moment, hoping to goad him into a semi-serious conversation for once.

Jack shrugged. "You see, Lizzie, a person such as myself doesn't often trust others because it is others who partake in such particularly nefarious actions that therefore makes them untrustable. So you see, trusting oneself is an infinitely better option."

"So you have trusted people before," Elizabeth interjected.

"I didn't say that," Jack retorted, eyes widening slightly. Elizabeth crossed her arms, feeling slightly triumphant at catching Jack in his usually unfathomable wordplay.

"You see, Jack," she started, "A person such as me realizes that those who can no longer trust must have lost the ability to trust somewhere along the way." She paused, watching him closely for a reaction. He was frowning ever so slightly and staring out at the glittering waves, seemingly caught in his own world for the moment.

"So what happened, Jack?" Elizabeth asked.

Jack turned his head slowly toward her, his trademark grin for once absent from his features. He leaned in slightly and said in a low voice, "You saw my memories. You tell me, love."

Elizabeth froze, dumbfounded that he'd brought up their time in the Locker and even more overwhelmed by the remembrance of what she'd seen. It had only been glimpses but it had been enough. Suddenly she realized Jack was walking away from her, his usual swagger once again present in his step.

"I trust you, Jack," she said loudly enough for him to hear. He faltered and turned briefly, a simpering grin on his face.

He tipped his hat before continuing away. "Good for you."

* * *

Will hung his head slightly in a pretense of respect, despite the fact that he was filled with nothing but loathing for the man sitting in front of him.

"William Turner," Beckett said snidely. "We meet again." His fingers drummed slightly over the desk, then, as if catching himself, stopped abruptly. "I hear you have something of interest to me, and for your sake, I do hope so."

"Lord Beckett," he began, the proper title acidic against his tongue. "I have information on the whereabouts of pirates. One pirate in particular, I think you'll be especially interested in."

"Oh?" Beckett said, boredom evident in his voice. "Is that all? You've grown weary of the lawless existence that you've grown accustomed to and decided to betray your fellow buccaneers?" He paused for a moment, contemplating. "And which pirate is it that I would be so interested in?"

"Jack Sparrow." As soon as the name left his mouth, it was almost as if an audible hush had crept over the room.

Beckett's eyes narrowed slightly. "Jack Sparrow's dead, Mr. Turner, and the world is better for it. Whatever sort of game it is you're playing at…"

Norrington, who up until that moment had stood quietly in the shadowed corner of the room suddenly spoke up. "He's not lying, sir. I saw him myself, accompanied by Barbossa. Apparently Sparrow managed to escape the Kraken. As for Barbossa, I have no explanation, sir."

Will chose not to correct Norrington's false assumptions. Rather, he used the moment to surreptitiously glance around the room, wondering if the heart could possibly be in the vicinity.

Beckett suspiciously caught Will's eye, and Will stared back at him steadfastly.

"So I am to take the word of a contemptible blacksmith and a former drunkard that a man whom was seen eaten by the Kraken, is alive and well? Not to mention your alleged sighting of Barbossa. Do tell, gentlemen, what guarantee do I have that you're not lying?"

Will could see a vein in Norrington's face throb at the mention of his former state but he continued to stare ahead unwaveringly, completely composed.

"Upon my honor, sir," he replied quietly.

Beckett sneered. "What honor?" His eyes narrowed. "And why exactly, if you are telling the truth, didn't you attack and take Sparrow and Barbossa prisoner? You thought it would be a better idea to sail all the way back here first? Do I really need to remind you why you lost your commission in the first place, _former _Commodore?"

Will almost felt sympathy for Norrington as he placidly took the onslaught of insults without raising a single objection to defend himself.

"Sir, their vessel outgunned us two to one. I knew that you would want Sparrow alive and when Mr. Turner showed up I made a decision to return for orders."

Beckett stared hard at Norrington. "How incredibly convenient," he said, idly intertwining his fingers in front of him. He slowly shifted his gaze back to Will.

"So, assuming it is true that Sparrow has unwittingly managed to evade death, once again, I might add, what could possibly be your true motive behind betraying a friend?"

"Acquaintance, really," Will mumbled. "And as for your question," he said, his voice becoming louder and more confident, "let's just say I have my reasons."

Beckett leaned back in his chair as if finally at ease. "Ah yes, a personal vendetta of sorts. That, Mr. Turner, is something I can understand all too well. Particularly when it comes to Jack Sparrow. I'll tell you what; tell me where his is, and if you're not lying you'll be granted a full pardon."

"That's very generous of you, Lord Beckett," Will said in what he hoped was a sincere tone. "But I have some terms that must be met as well."

Beckett's eyes widened slightly as if surprised at his audacity. "I'm listening, Mr. Turner."

"My fiancé, Elizabeth Swann, is currently in the company of Jack Sparrow. I want your word of honor that she will not be harmed, and that all charges against her will be dropped."

A small smirk played momentarily upon Beckett's features, but disappeared quickly. "Very well, Mr. Turner. Anything else?"

Will hesitated briefly. "You are in possession of Davy Jones' heart, are you not?"

Norrington's eyes shifted ever so slightly to Will.

Beckett raised his eyebrows. "Indeed I am."

"Before I give you their location," Will continued, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt while handing out terms to a man who could have him executed at the slightest whim, " I want you to make Davy Jones release my father from his vow of service to the Flying Dutchman."

Beckett laughed suddenly, an odd glint to his eyes. Will frowned in confusion.

"How terribly tragic," Beckett continued, a twisted smile on his face, "Your own father, a deformed freak of nature already, being bargained for with the man who would otherwise put him to death for piracy. I must say, Turner, you surround yourself with a very interesting circle of people."

"So you agree?"

Beckett sighed. "As much as I would love to see you hang from the gallows, I want to see Sparrow hang more. So, yes, we have an accord. But you will uphold your end of the bargain first. Then your father will be freed."

Will furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the floor, relieved that Beckett had accepted but put off by the mention of Jack hanging. Whatever wrongs had been committed against him by Jack, he didn't want to be the cause of Captain Jack Sparrow's final undoing.

Beckett was watching him closely, lips pursed in an almost amused expression.

"I believe we have an agreement, Mr. Turner. Now tell me where he is, and soon we'll have this whole disagreeable business behind us."

Will looked up. "I'll do better than tell you. If it's quite alright with you, I'd like to show you myself."


End file.
